


The joys of spring

by Rogercat



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Childhood, Elves, F/M, Family, Gen, Grandparents, Growing Up, Parenthood, Valinor, grandchild, infant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 20:04:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14064543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogercat/pseuds/Rogercat
Summary: Curufin enjoys the life of being reborn, and deals with being a grandfather





	The joys of spring

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: This one-shot for Curufin's day in the Fëanorian Week was inspired by two of my favorite artists on DeviantArt, first part comes from the image Upsy-Dasiy by Eilian and second part from a four-page small comic about Fingon first meeting his Fëanorian cousins by Greenapplefreak 
> 
> For those who have not read my earlier stories, Narvi is meant to be the Dwarven version of a African-Scandinavian person in terms of lineage, which is why she and their daughter is much darker in skin colour than Celebrimbor

It was one of the first warm spring days this year. Curufin and his wife Astarë had chosen to make the spring cleaning today, meaning that they both was very busy with what they had in their hands.        

“How much dust is gathered in the carpets and mattresses, really?!” Astarë wondered while a cloud of dust were swept away by the winds, since they just had finished to beat out dust from the carpets hung on a special stand for it, using an carpet beater each.   

 

“Good question,” muttered Curufin, removing the rag he had used to cover his nose and mouth so he would not breath in the dust.  

 

The following plan was to wash the carpets with water and soap by using an broom, then letting them dry in the sun. They had already done the basic everyday cleaning the day before, and now it was time for the more heavy work.

 

“Atar! Ammë!” 

 

Their son, Celebrimbor, arrived to the garden carrying on a very small yet special little person in the family; his half-Dwarven daughter Frëja who had just seen her first six months of life passing.  

 

“Frëja needs to be watched by you for a hour or two, Narvi and I am needed at the city hall to solve a brawl between some merchants who apparently does not want to accept goods from their Dwarven equivalents…” 

 

Curufin did a mental facepalm in dislike. Since the Valar had allowed the Dwarves in the Halls of the Forefathers to regain new bodies and entering Valinor from there, it had become somewhat common with misunderstandings and similar events, especially involving Elves who had never left Valinor for Middle-Earth and had no idea how to react to it. 

 

Not to mention that many thought it a scandal beyond the unthinkable that Celebrimbor had married Narvi, a Dwarrowdam born in the Orocarni Mountains in the far East of Middle-Earth, as his bride in secret back in the Second Age during her first life. Some even whispered that it had to be the infamous fertility from Fëanor and Nerdanel, passed down to Celebrimbor though Curufin, who had resulted in Narvi getting pregnant with their unique daughter, the only known child between a Elf and a Dwarf so far.

 

“Well, this little lady sure can help us with something during the spring cleaning. I think she is just the right weight for a special task,” smiled Astarë to her son while Frëja happy babbled a greeting to her Elven grandmother. That Frëja caused some red marks on Astarë's cheeks from the sideburns at rubbing their faces together as a sign of affection from the infant, she did not seem to mind.  

 

“Good, I will try and come back as soon as possible. Frëja behave yourself with your grandparents now, alright?”   

 

Frëja responded with a slight slap to his forehead with a open palm, the contrast between his paler skin and her darker one pretty clear. Not that Celebrimbor minded, it was not unusual for her to hit a little hard since she still was learning how to control her strength.  

 

Of course, the sight of her father leaving was not what Frëja liked, so she started to cry rather loudly. Her grandparents were no strangers for her, but she still was not used to both her parents being away for a while.

 

“There, there, sweetie. No reason to cry.” 

 

Placing Frëja on the pile of dusted-out mattresses and pillows, Astarë requested her husband to watch their grandchild while she went to gather of the wooden toys he had created for Frëja to use now when she was old enough to start holding them by herself. 

 

After a couple of minutes with more crying, Frëja finally calmed down. Seeing a chance to hold her without too much fussing, Curufin picked her up in his arms. 

 

“Not too cheerful today, huh? Well, we all have our good and bad days, shall you know. My own father and mother can tell a lot of tales about such days from when my siblings and myself were young…” 

 

As he talked, Curufin started to gently toss his granddaughter up in the air and then catch her again. After the first small flights, she realized the fun of what he was doing. Soon, a happy giggle were heard as she went up in the air. And then, just as he tossed up in the air again, a very loud shriek where Frëja was unaware about her suddenly using a small amount of Power, the most commonly known word for the strength which powerful singers and bards would have in their voices. 

 

When it finally stopped ringing in his ears from the serious sound shock his hearing had suffered, Curufin blinked several times in slight confusion before he recalled what had happened. In just that moment, Astarë came back with some soft baby toys.

 

“Honey, where is Frëja? Still on the mattresses?” 

 

A squeal in delight were heard in response, causing the Elven couple to look upwards. Only to see their granddaughter somehow having gotten stuck up on a branch in the tallest tree of their backyard, her baby blanket being the only item that still kept her safe since she was carefully wrapped into it for warmth. 

 

“ **_Curufinwë Atarinkë Fëanorion! WHAT did you do to make this happen!?_ ** ” she yelled at him, understandably panicking in fear that Frëja would fall down to the ground and break her neck. 

 

“This is not the right time to explain, where is our extension ladder? My parents better not have it over at their house…!” Curufin made no big attempt to defend himself, in a way he indeed was the reason for why the infant currently was in this worrying situation. 

 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

 

It was one of the annual summer feasts in the royal court of Tirion. One of the bigger surprises this year that the whole House of Fëanor actually were present at the feast, rare as it was for the family of the Crown Prince to leave Formenos those days. Rumour said that after the First Age, they did not want much to do with anything related to ruling the Noldor anymore.

 

Frëja were trying to see one of her red haired relatives, that red hair of theirs should be easier to spot in the sea of black haired Noldor Elves since she had gotten lost from her parents. Perhaps great-uncle Celegorm or great-grandma Miriel too, if she only could catch sight of one of them! 

Suddenly, she crashed into a older Elf boy, since she had not been looking straight forwards. 

 

“Watch where you are going, midget!”

 

Ok, Frëja was aware that she was smaller than him, but that he was rude enough to not even ask if she had hurt herself by falling backwards on the floor, was not giving him any good points in social politeness. 

 

“Surely **_you_ ** are the one who should watch where you goes, your oaf!” she snapped back while raising herself to her feet again. 

 

Only to suddenly get shoved backwards. 

 

“Girls are not supposed to be loud in public, so be silent, brat.”

 

Her blood was now boiling in anger, and it did not turn any better when the boy looked closer on her face. 

 

“ _ What _ are that hair growing in your face?! It is  _ disgusting! _ Your parents must a pair of those Reborn, said to tainting their own children with unnatural appearance or behavior!”

 

Now, it was not uncommon that some people could be shocked by the sidebums Frëja had inherited from her Dwarven lineage, currently neaty braided into the thick braid her dark brown hair had been set into and were long enough to reach her hips already despite her young age, but to hear her family indirectly being insulted in a such manner was  _ unacceptable! _

 

Turning around so fast that the boy got a noticeable slap in the face by her braid, she called out loudly:

 

“ **_ATTO!! GRANDFATHER!! GREAT-GRANDPA!! This idiot is insulting Amad's hard work with my hair from earlier today!!_ ** ” 

 

Sure enough, three Elven adults were quick to press themselves through the crowd towards where the call had come from. And the Elven boy realized in quickly growing dread that she had called on no one else than Crown Prince Fëanor, and the other two Elves were enough alike him to the point that they could only be his fifth son Curufin and grandson Celebrimbor. 

 

“Frëja, what happened?” asked Celebrimbor as he lifted up his daughter in his arms. 

 

“Oi, brat. It is bad manners to insult the fine braids my Dwarven law-daughter made on my granddaughter for today,” growled Curufin in a warning manner. Fëanor, who first were looking for possible signs on which family the boy belonged to, spoke: 

 

“Seems like I need to escort this uneducated scoundrel to his parents and complain about his lack of manners towards the ladies in our family.” 

 

True enough, as the Elven boy was swiftly dragged away by Fëanor by his tunic, Frëja stuck out her tongue in a taunting manner before happy accepting some candy from Curufin despite Celebrimbor protesting that she should not have any sweets before the dinner.    

 


End file.
